


On Sickness and Sentiment

by nevereverever



Category: Lovely Little Losers, Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Sickfic, it's just mostly cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-07-23 22:30:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7482426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevereverever/pseuds/nevereverever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is hard to see your significant other in pain. And yet we learn, and together, we prevail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends!  
> This is my first work in this fandom, but I absolutely adore these characters. This doesn't have a distinct time period, but I would imagine it a year-ish after the end of Lolilo.
> 
> If you get triggered by migraines/headaches, this is not the fic for you. Also very very very mild swearing. Stay safe buddies :)

Ben was writing a paper. A paper on Marlowe, so he was enjoying himself. He was just getting into the zone. He felt like his fingers were flying across the keys, he barely had to think, until he got a text. A text from Beatrice. Part of him got excited like always when he got a text from Bea. He was so excited, in fact, that he grabbed for his phone and nearly knocked it off the table.

From Bea <3: Pick me up from work. ASAP

To Bea <3: Not even a please? I suppose chivalry really is dead.

From Bea <3: Now. Please.

Ben cocked his head to the side in confusion. Usually their texts to each other were long and full of banter. Texts so short were reserved for when they were fighting, which they weren’t. Whatever the case, he grabbed his keys and started the drive to the restaurant where she worked. The drive was a short but pleasant one. Usually Ben enjoyed the drive from the flat, but the texts she had sent got him worried.

When he pulled up to the front of the restaurant, Bea wasn’t outside like she usually was when he picked her up. Which was weird as well. Unnerved, he strode into the restaurant with just a bit more shake in his step than on the average day. He pushed open the door and heard the familiar bell ding. If he said he wasn't worried, he would have been lying.

“Hey Ben!” Bea’s manager grabbed him by the arm and started talking fast, “She’s in the back. Try to keep quiet though.” She let go of the vice-like grip on his arm and then gave him a brisk pat on the back. The stern tone of voice and lack of information certainly didn't do anything good for his nerves.

“Thanks?” Ben answered in a daze, staggering quickly from the door to the employee break room to find it pitch black and silent apart from the noises of the restaurant drifting through the door. “Bea?” he questioned into the darkness.

A whimper arose from the ratty couch in the corner. “Migraine. Sorry. Take me home.” The pain in her voice caused the words to bounce around in his head before settling in, so it took him a moment to react.

“Okay. Okay. Umm.” Ben murmured into the worried silence. He tried to make his steps as quiet as possible. He made his way to the couch and scooped her up into his arms. After initial discomfort and more whimpers, she curled into his chest and buried her eyes in his hoodie. It physically hurt him to see the great love of his life in such immense pain. Nevertheless he walked as carefully as he could to the car and set her down lightly in the seat.

He pretended not to see her wince with each passing car. He pretended that her winces didn’t hurt him. He pretended they were both okay.

As soon as she touched the seat, she grabbed onto her knees and pressed her eyes into them.  
“Ben. Drive now.” Her voice was laced with broken glass, sharp and biting.

“Okay. Umm. Are you okay?” he asked, clearly still startled from the sight of her, so helpless when she was usually so headstrong.

“No. Sound hurts, light hurts. I want to be home. Take me home.” Her voice was very clearly strangled. Her own voice rang in her ears, sending shockwaves of pain rippling through her head. “Take me home” she whispered, the urgency in her voice clearer this time. 

The car ride back was mostly silent, apart from the quiet tears from Bea. All Ben wanted to do was reach over and hold her, but he was driving and he wasn’t sure if it would help. He tried to be as quiet as he could, quieting his breathing, his thoughts, anything to try to make her pain go away.

When they arrived at the flat, Ben took a breath. A quiet one. “Beatrice. I know it sucks to hear my voice. I’m sorry. I’m going to take you into the flat now okay?” Ben whispered, trying to cause her as little pain as possible. Carefully, he scooped her back into his arms, carrying her like she was made of porcelain. He set her down like she would break with a touch.

“Bea, do you want me to stay with you?” he whispered as soon as she settled into the bed, pulling a few blankets around her for shelter. She squeezed her eyes tighter and shook her head, curling up further when even the movement provoked the ever growing pain.

As much as it hurt him to leave her, he knew that every moment he spent with her just hurt her more.

After a mere four hours of Ben silently panicking and googling in the guest room, there was a quiet knock at the door followed by a very woozy looking Beatrice. She wobbled into the room, resting her head on the doorframe. 

“Ben. I’m sorry. This happens. I can stay in the other room, if you want.” she murmured, rubbing at her eyes.

“No no no no no. You are staying here.” He patted the bed next to him. Bea stumbled over and flopped herself onto the mattress, carefully adjusting so her head fit snugly into the crook of his neck. “So. Do you feel… well clearly you feel somewhat better because you aren’t currently flinching from noises or light. How do you feel?”

“Like shit to be honest. Whenever it happens, I usually feel like I’ve got a bad flu for a day or so. Achy, tired, nauseous. My head is no longer trying to murder me though. So that's-" She paused for a moment, trying to think of the right word, "swell. It’s bullshit in general though.” Bea said. As funny as her anger at the concept of migraines was, Ben kept his giggle to himself. Beatrice snuggled into him even more, taking comfort in another human being after four hours of solitude.

“Agreed.” Ben sighed, “But this gives me a perfect reason to keep you here to watch shitty movies while I cater to your every need.”

“So chivalrous.” she giggled, halfheartedly punching Ben in the arm. As much as he did not appreciate the mild violence, he loved the sound of her laugh.

“There’s the Bea I know.” he smiled down at her, “Do you want food, or tea, or coffee? I was reading and it said caffeine was good for migraines. Also you probably have low blood sugar, and we could always do with more blankets. Ahh-” he struggled to think of more things to say, so he glanced at Beatrice to get her reaction.

She grinned up at him, her eyes tired, but shining nonetheless. “Ben, I’m okay. Some crackers and water would be nice, but mostly I want your company you dork.” She nuzzled his neck to prove it.

“Well aren’t you adorable?” Ben asked, carefully extricating himself from under Bea. When he returned a moment later with the food and water, Beatrice had pulled all of the blankets in the bed on top of her, burying herself in a small mountain of covers.

“Let’s watch The Princess Bride.” Beatrice said, taking the food and pulling Benedick under the blanket pile. 

Ben didn’t object to her choice, and he didn’t object when about 25 minutes into the movie, Bea fell asleep curled around him, the antics of Buttercup and Wesley well and truly forgotten in favor of snuggling up with her very own true love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends!  
> This chapter contains sad bebs. Nothing triggering as far as I can tell. Enjoy!

Ben woke up with Beatrice curled up in his arms, her head comfortably snuggled into his chest. Her hair was a tangled mess, she had smeared makeup all over his shirt, and yet he looked at her and couldn’t stop smiling. She stirred a bit, sensing the light streaming in from the window of their flat.

“Beatrice.” Ben whispered when she seemed justifiably awake, “Are you dead?” He poked her in the face, which she swatted away without opening her eyes.

“If I say yes, will you let me sleep? It’s like 6 in the morning”, she groaned, pulling blankets over her eyes to block the sunlight. He stopped poking her in the face, and started stroking her hair. Her groans faded as she nuzzled into his hand. 

“It’s 11, Bea. Do you need breakfast? Or more water?” he asked, his voice soft. Something in her body tensed when he said it, and he didn’t quite know why. She pulled ever so slightly away from him.

“I’m fine.” she said, clambering out of bed and pushing herself upright. As soon as she got to her feet, the world started to spin under her.Everything swayed and rocked, but Ben was at her side before she could even find something to lean against, pulling her back down to the bed.

“Hey.” he whispered, worry filling his voice. He put a hand on her back, but she pulled away, carefully steadying herself on the edge of the bed before pushing herself back to standing. She put a hand on the wall and gritted her teeth. “Bea, are you okay?” 

“I told you. I’m fine. It was a headrush, postdrome, dizziness et cetera. I’ve been doing this for years. I’m fine, okay?” she replied, her voice sharp and angry, but in a different way from the way it was the previous night. She sounded almost mournful.

“Okay.” Ben replied, the anxiety in his voice palpable. It hit Bea like a ton of bricks. She bit her lip and ignored it.

“I’m going to get breakfast. I’m fine Ben. I’m fine.” she said, reassuring herself as much as she was reassuring him. Unfortunately her confidence was shaken by the fog in her brain and the slur to her voice. She took slow and unsteady steps as the world swayed around her, leaving Ben in the dust.

Beatrice pressed her back into the kitchen counter and covered her face with her hands. As soon as she could muster the mental energy, she grabbed a banana and some water. She stood in the kitchen for a while trying to build herself back up, trying to gain any sort of footing before facing Ben. She knew she lashed out, and she knew that he was probably upset.

A pattering of footsteps sounded from behind her, and she turned to lock eyes with Ben. Her gaze didn’t hold fiery passion as much as it held fatigue.

“Sorry.” she said distantly. She looked at him, his eyes big and wet the way they always were when he was sad. He blinked hard, and tried his best to project confidence. It didn’t work.

“Are we going to talk about this?” He looked at her with those big wet eyes and she just melted. Tears welled in her eyes just looking at him. He gathered her up in his arms, and her tears spilled over.

“I’m fine. I’m fine Ben,” she whispered against his shoulder, “I’m fine.” She pulled away from him, leaning back against the counter. “I’ve had migraines since I was 10. I can handle myself. Just. Go.” She pulled her gaze away from his eyes as he retreated from the room. She caught a glimpse of his face as he left, and it took all of her willpower not to go comfort him.

She sat down at the small wooden table that was nested in the corner to their flat. She traced her fingertips over the wood grain and tried to zone out. It helped that everything in her brain was in a haze that she just couldn’t seem to shake. Postdrome, she told herself, you’re fine.

She only realized that she was crying when her tear fell to the table and soaked her fingers. She focused on her breath, trailing her tears with her finger. She tried to steel herself and go talk to Ben, but her energy was drained, and she didn’t want to face him like this.

When she heard his footsteps in the hallway, she wiped her tears with the sleeve of her uniform, which she realized she hadn’t changed out of. 

“Bea?” He pulled up the chair across the little table, “I just… I want to know what you need. And if that’s me leaving or whatever, that’s okay. Communication, remember.” He nudged her foot with his, prompting a watery giggle. Her smile withered as she looked into his eyes, still red and glistening with the remnants of his tears.

“I’m fine,” she said as forcefully as she could ignoring the fact that her words kept running together.

“Bea, you’ve been saying that all morning, but I don’t think it’s true. If something’s bugging you, you can tell me what it is. That’s kinda how this words.” He laid his hand across hers and smiled, as if he was trying to assure her that he was okay.

Bea closed her eyes. “Every time I have a migraine or I tell someone about them, they treat me differently. Nothing big. They freak out whenever I have a headache, try to fix it.vI hate people’s pity and I don’t need it.” She opened her eyes and looked up at him, “I don’t want this to change the way you treat me. Even a little.”

He squeezed her hand, looked into her eyes, smiled, “Love. I promise that this changes nothing. I love you,” he said, emphatically gesturing with the hand that wasn’t occupied, “Nothing will ever change that.”

“People always say that. Things go back most of the way, but there’s always something different. I don’t know. I don’t want you to treat me like I’m fragile, Dickface.” Bea tensed ever so slightly. She averted her gaze when his eyes got all big and sad.

“Listen. I would never treat you different. I was treating you like that this morning because last night- Last night I saw you in unbelievable pain and it hurt. I hate seeing you in pain. Beatrice.” She perked up a bit at that, he never called her by her full name any more. “I love you, and I just want to make sure you’re okay. This changes nothing because you are the most beautiful and stubborn and beautifully stubborn person I have ever met.” He rubbed his thumb over her hand, trying to assure her everything would be okay. 

Bea rose from her chair, traversing the short distance between them, and pulled him firmly into a kiss, her blurred focus narrowing to a point. She pulled away for just a moment, a smile gracing her lips.

“Boom Boom!” She yelled at was probably an unnecessary volume for how close together they were. She poked him in the cheek. “Lazer kiss.”

“You’re the worst.” Benedick cried, his smile finally reaching his eyes.

“Just shut up and kiss me you beautiful, amazing dork.”

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! The next chapter is forthcoming :) Feel free to comment if you liked it, or if you didn't, or if I made a really bad typo


	3. Coda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next 5 times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally forgot to finish this and I felt bad about it. So to those of you who care, a quick coda.

The next time it happens, they're on a plane going on their next adventure. The summer before Bea starts school. The plane grumbles in a way that is quiet once you get used to it, but you don't get used to it when every second it feels like your head is closer to exploding. He lays a soft hand on her back and traces I love you into her skin. She lets him carry her off the plane. She hates it.

The time after that, she hides in the bathroom for 5 hours with the door locked and the lights off. She hates the way it makes him feel, so she presses her forehead against to cold tile instead of a pillow. She justifies it to herself by saying she wan't have to get up to throw up, but when she hears him crying with his back pressed against the door, she doesn't have the heart to tell him. 

The time after that, she stays in bed, doesn't tell him, quietly takes medicine. She thinks he won't notice. She underestimates him. He walks into the room, brushes her hair out of her face, presses a cool compress to her forehead. She sighs and forgets that he's not supposed to know. She smiles lightly when his hand holds hers, when he's silent for hours just to be with her.

The next time, he realizes it before she does. Knows her cues like the back of his hand. Calls in sick for her and puts her back to bed. She doesn't complain. Thanks him.

Every time after that, she lets him take care of her. She doesn't like to feel dependent, but she also know that this isn't about her and that she can't be independent all the time. She smiles at the little notes he writes on post its attached to her meds. Lets him hold back her hair when she can't take the pain and crawls to the bathroom to see if she can find peace. Lets his lap be her pillow instead of the tile.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this :) If you did, feel free to leave a comment, even if it is just like, several letters or an emoticon. I will love and appreciate it.


End file.
